


The Tale of the Jotun Captain

by jaylm



Series: Jotun and the Beast [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asgard, Avengers on Asgard, Character Death, Child Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Jotun!Bucky, Jotun!Peter, Jotun!Steve, Jotunheim, Laufey's A+ Parenting, M/M, Magic, Mentions of Thor, Mpreg, Name Changes, Odin's A+ Parenting, Prequel, Star-crossed, Steve Feels, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, War, baby Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaylm/pseuds/jaylm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Based before the events of Jotun and the Beast.) With Jotunheim and Asgard constantly at war, it was strange for Stark to find any form of love on the battlefield. But the alchemist somehow manages it when his life is saved by one of Jotunheim's own captains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of the Jotun Captain

“I see you finally finished playing with that sword I gave you?”

“You bet! Meet Jericho. Jericho, Banner.”

Banner laughed. “Is this the test run?”

“Yeah. Let's see how Jericho stands up to killing a couple of frost giants.”

“Good Luck, Stark. Meet for a drink if we survive?”

“You're buying.” The alchemist ran for the fight.

A battle in full swing came into the sight of the alchemist and the blacksmith; the bloodied canyon was once a small Jotun village but all remnants of that were nothing more than shreds and debris under the feet of the warriors from both sides. Any sort of peace was long gone as the body count stacked from both Jotunheim and Asgard alike.

The Jotun Captain focused on what was important at the moment. Protecting what was left of his men from the force coming.

He watched with a calculated red eye as his long time friend, Buk, threw a long javelin shaped icicle directly into the shoulder of a charging Aesir, stopping the small man in his tracks. He missed the three men moving up behind him.

They found themselves without heads shortly after as a hard, ice coated shield flew through and sliced through their necks.

Buk followed the shield back to its owner and laughed. “No need to show off!”

Cap smiled. His head whipped around as he heard a loud cry from one of his less experienced men. He ran to the source to see a young Jotun cowering under a Asgardian with a glowing red sword. The Jotun was one of his warriors, one who was much too young to be in battle if he had anything to say. But the captain had little say in the matter when the king demanded ever able body. A boy hardly old enough to mate was apparently considered 'able body.'

Cap knew he wouldn't be able to get close enough in time to save the boy and there was too much going on around them to aim his shield just right. But he couldn't just let this boy die, he could deal with Laufey later.

The Captain growled and weaved around the battle grounds as he saw something glow around the sword. Oh, lovely; an alchemist. Who knew what abilities that blade held! 

He came to a stop nearly ten meters away as the Aesir dropped his striking arm and gestured for the child to leave. The boy wasted no time scrambling to his feet and running off, the captain hoped, to safety. 

He glanced back at the Aesir just in time to see a hard, icy blue blast hit him in the side. The Asgardian cried out in pain as the ice made its way into his veins. The captain had seen it used before and would no doubt see it again. A spell created by Laufey when he was only a prince that he then taught to anyone with high abilities in magic. The ice would enter the body and not stop until its victim's heart froze over. For someone as warm blooded as the Aesir, it was surely a painful way to go.

“Stop!” He cried out as one of his men moved in for the final blow.

The soldier looked to his captain in confusion. “Sir?”

Cap swallowed, unsure exactly what came over him. The man looked familiar. He didn't want to watch him die. “Bring him back to the camp and stop the ice from effecting his heart. This man could be of use.” 

The warrior gave a surprised look, but didn't hesitate to follow the order. For all he knew, this man was a spy. Or possibly one of King Odin's guards that can be pressed for information. But stopping the ice? Did anyone know how?

The captain didn't worry much more about it. Instead, he continued into battle and tried to wipe that face from his mind. 

 

The battle had long since ended when Stark finally came to. He had little recollection of the nights; only nightmares of his screams as some frost giants tore into his chest and dug around his heart. His chest still hurt from the horrible dreams.

It didn't take long for him to realize the pain was no longer a mere figment.

Stark pulled back and looked down at the glowing circle of light now embedded in his breast. The skin around it was raw and torn, but a faint blue light soothed it and slowly healed it flush against the metal casing. For a moment, he could only sit there and stare, as the world felt very surreal. But then, the panic set in. These icy monsters tore out a chunk of his flesh and replaced it with a device of their own. How did he know it wasn't something that could lead to torture and pain? It was bad enough he was still alive. Horror stories of being a Jotun captive came to mind. 

He scrambled into a sitting position and grabbed for the blue circle.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” A shadow at the far side of the room said coolly.

The voice had him pausing briefly. The alchemist let out a mirthless laugh. “Good thing you're not me then.” he continued to pull.

It was then a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He flinched and pulled back for a moment, but then looked down at the other arm. It was pale blue instead of the usual dark blue of the people of Jotunhaim.

Stark looked up into the shadowed face. “You of Asgard?”

The shadow scoffed. “No. I am under orders to keep you from harm. I have to keep this form so I don't burn your delicate skin.”

He pulled his wrist out of the other's grip. “Under whose orders?”

“The Captain. I assume our little flower has some information for him.”

The alchemist frowned. As anyone in Asgard, he came into the war to protect his home. He didn't know much beyond they were supposed to be killing all things large and blue. He's only seen the royal family at a glance. He lacked any information that could help Jotunheim in the fight and even if he did know something, he wasn't about to just hand it over. 

He swallowed and gripped the table. “Where is he now?”

“He will not see you until you have been properly healed.” There was humor in the Jotun's voice. He could here a mumble of a word that sounded suspiciously like 'pet.' Stark chose to ignore it.

“So what do I do until then? Sit here and talk to you?”

The other turned the light to a table which was lined with various materials. Most were weapons that had shattered in battle, others were pieces of metals. Beside them was a set of materials the alchemist recognized from his own shop. “Make yourself useful and rebuild our weapons. You can also work on some medicine for our wounded while you're at it.”

“If I refuse?” Stark didn't hesitate to growl.

The Jotun responded just as quick. “Then I tear out the only thing keeping your heart from becoming colder than anything you will find on Jotunheim. I will then tell my Captain you could not be saved.”

The Aesir felt his heart jump in panic at the threat. He remembered the feeling as soon as that spell hit him. The ice entering his veins like needles flowing through his body. The seconds he was still conscious felt like hours of torture. He didn't care to know how long it would take to freeze hie heart completely. Somehow, he got the feeling this Jotun wouldn't be kind enough to let him pass out.

With gritted teeth, Stark moved and walked past the other wordlessly to get to the broken weapons.

 

Days disappeared into nothing as Stark healed and served the Aesir enemy. Aside from the one who placed the glowing magic disk in his heart, no one else acknowledged him. All his food was left on the table. Any talk about him was made as if he weren't present. None of this surprised him.

What did was the fact he wasn't shoved in chains the moment they didn't have any use for him. Had he been strong enough, Stark was sure he could walk right out the door. At the right time, he would try it and drive a blade right into the heart of their Captain.

He jumped when the door opened. Heavy footsteps made their way over to the table. Stark didn't turn around, expecting it to be none other than the only Jotun who spoke to him.

Instead, he found a very different Jotun hand place a shield on the table. Stark frowned at the new piece of weaponry. In his time here, he hadn't once seen a shield come through in need of repair. In battle, there was a very rare instance of the Jotun using a shield. Their skin and size kept most weapons from harming them too badly so most didn't bother.

Another reason he was confused was this shield was in perfect shape and had no purpose or right being on the table.

Stark growled. “You've gotta be kidding me...” 

“I never kid.”

Stark tensed at the voice and was immediately brought back to the battlefield. The moment he was hit with the blast. The voice that screamed out an order. It was the same voice now.

He turned and looked at the Captain. His height was average for a typical frost giant, which meant he towered over Stark. However, the markings in his skin where unusual. While most had very little on their chest aside from a stray line from the shoulders or ribs, the Captain had a few markings littering his chest. If Stark looked at just the right angle, they looked to meet up and create a star. His face lacked a few of the marks that made the others look like they were in a constant glare. Instead, his face was free to express a much wider scale of emotions. 

The alchemist wasn't sure if he preferred this guy or the ones who glared at him. “There's nothing wrong with that shield. Have you even taken it out in battle?”

“Of course. It's been in every fight since I became captain. The strap is worn. I would like something a little more permanent, please.”

“. _..Please??_ ”

The Captain frowned. “Is that a problem?”

Stark blinked and shook his head. “No, a new strap is easy. Insultingly so. That's just a word I don't often hear.” Or ever. Asgard wasn't exactly full of the most polite people in the Nine Realms. 

There was a soft laugh from the Jotun. Stark found himself more relaxed at the sound but he wasted no time to chide himself. This was the enemy. He was one of the higher ranking officers in Laufey's army. There should be nothing pleasant about him. Whether it be his looks, sound, smell, feel, or taste.

Wait. Smell? Feel? _Taste??_ Stark sighed to himself and turned his attention to the shield. It's been way too long since he's had someone in bed with him. “So,” he said, in hopes of a proper distraction, “Why, out of all the people on the battlefield, did you choose to pick me out of the crowd. I heard it was you who placed the order.”

The Captain sighed softly. “I watched you while we were out there. The child who you had cornered and didn't strike down.”

“Come on, he was a kid! I'm Asgardian, not a monster! I wasn't about to-”

“I found him dead hardly twenty meters from you.”

Stark closed his mouth.

“The point is you showed mercy to your enemy. I was only curious as to why.”

“And your curiosity... this is the only reason I'm still alive?”

The Captain just stared at Stark. That was all the alchemist needed to give him his answer.

The Asgardian sighed and looked away from the strangely compassionate red eyes. “He was scared as soon as he saw me, but he still charged. When I disarmed him, his fear must've tripled. He wasn't ready for battle anymore than a little boy on Asgard. So, I let him go.” 

The Captain tilted his head. “And how do you explain his death?”

Stark's expression became dark. He glared at the shield as he looked at the strap. “Who ever killed him did it because he was Jotun. It's not the way I usually conduct myself, but I can't speak for the rest of Asgard.”

“Hmm. It's a shame.”

“What's a shame?”

The Jotun smiled. “You can't represent the rest of Asgard.”

Stark let out a snort and returned to the shield. What the captain considered a worn and broken strap was in perfect shape as well. There was no way it would fall off anytime in the foreseeable future. He looked up at the other. “Will that be all or is there another excuse you have to continue talking to me?”

A chuckle. “No, that would be all.”

Stark slid the shield back to the Jotun. “How about I get a name? Otherwise, I'll only call you 'Cap.'”

The Jotun thought about it for a moment. Ah, what harm could a simple name do? “Stjevig.”

“Seawig?”

“No, Stjevig.”

“Steven??”

“Nono, say it slowly. Stje...vig..”

Stark stared at his captor for a moment and blinked a couple times as if he were trying to process the pronunciation. Finally, he sucked in a breath as if to make another attempt, held it for a beat, then spoke. “Cap it is!”

Stjevig, or 'Cap,' just shook his head. He attached his shield to his back and headed for the door. “We'll talk again soon, Stark.” He didn't wait around for the alchemist to whip around at the sound of his name from an unfamiliar tongue.

By the time Stark had gained the wits to ask how Cap already knew his name, the Jotun was gone.

 

Over the next few weeks, Stark was left pretty much alone on the camp grounds. Once a day, the Jotun captain with the strange name would make his appearance and they would talk. At first, it was about the war and all the warriors and friends both lost. Then, they would talk about their lives outside. Stark learned Cap was at one point considered a small and weak Jotun until he agreed to be a test subject in order to increase his size. He was an scribe during the time before the test, but his need to serve his king outweighed his hunger for knowledge.

Stark soon found himself comfortable enough to speak about his own life. About being his father's apprentice. About throwing himself completely into Alchemy when the man died. He talked about his interest in blacksmithing but avoided the subject of his blacksmith friend. Banner was a beast in battle and he would rather steer away from anything Cap could possibly try to use against them.

Aside from this, he was left on his own. The Jotun Doctor who usually kept tabs on him no longer showed and all the materials Stark needed were brought by Cap. It didn't take long for him to gain his strength. With a salve he made himself, he was healing quickly and soon braved the steps out into the Jotun camp.

As expected of a place in Jotunheim, it was freezing. The layers of clothing and gloved hands offered little protection at a strong gust of icy wind. His face was immediately frozen as a gust blew by and he wondered about returning to the hut that kept him warm. He immediately thought against it. If he was to leave the camp, he would have to brace the cold.

The few giants who walked by him would look at him warily before their eyes fell on the dull glow barely visible under his layers. They would then walk on without so much as another glance.

The alchemist pursed his lips as he wondered how long he would have this immunity.

He walked the camp in search of any familiar face. Most were only grunting soldiers preparing for battle and anyone that held themselves in high regard wouldn't even grace him with a look as they strode passed him to their own tents.

“Well, good morning to you two, your Highness!” He managed to call out to one of them only to find himself knocked to the ground. Someone else laughed.

Stark growled at the other and picked himself up but bit his tongue before another smart ass comment could surface. Obviously this was the Jotun warriors without an ounce of humor to call their own.

He walked through the camp until he was at the edge. Idly, he wondered how far he was from the end of Jotunheim. Exactly how long would it take him to get back to Asgard on foot? Would he freeze before even leaving this realm? Would the frost giants chase after him once they realized he was gone?

As if to answer his question, the Jotun doctor walked up and crossed his arms. “Why are you hesitating? Is the little flower afraid of what the cold will do to his delicate skin?”

Stark laughed. “I know you mean this as an insult, but it's cute that you keep referring to me as a flower.”

“And it's strange that a warrior would find it 'cute' and not completely insulting.”

The alchemist pursed his lips. “Maybe I wasn't meant to be a warrior.”

The Jotun laughed. “That much is clear.” The large blue hand gave him a dismissive wave. “You are free to leave when you please. No one will care enough to bring you back. Although, when I'm sure you completely froze over, I may come for the heart. I would hate for something so useful to go to waste.”

Stark glared at his retreating form before returning his gaze to the dangerous frozen land that was Jotunheim. He sucked in a deep breath and began to walk.

Then froze when he heard a familiar battle cry.

He turned and watched as an army from Asgard charged into the camp. He laughed, shocked by his own stroke of luck as he ran towards the others. He could find armor and weapons in the shuffle, he was sure.

Unfortunately, the plan was cut short when he found himself flying back. His head slammed into the side of a large stone and he blacked out.

 

By the time he awoke, the camp was completely destroyed. The tents were torn to shreds and the more stable huts were burnt to the ground, leaving no place to hide from enemies or the blistering cold. He found himself in a little alcove, out of sight and out of the line of fire or careless foot fall. He pulled himself out and looked around to take in all the bodies. By glance, it seemed the battle was somewhat even. If the Aesir were hoping to gain the upper hand by catching the Jotun off guard, this was a failed plan.

Stark walked around in search of anyone living. A lot of the bodies were of Jotun he didn't know or didn't care to know, aside from the doctor who laid face down near the edge of the camp. He wasn't exactly treated favorably in his stay. Not by any of these men, at least. But no Captain. Not even his shield to signal his body was somewhere mixed into the carnage. Meaning, he still lived.

He then began searching through the bodies of the Asgard army. He couldn't see anyone he knew. A relief. Not only did that mean they were hopefully still alive and well, they couldn't have gotten too far.

He grabbed equipment and other necessary items he could carry then set off in search of the Aesir. The alchemist found himself cursing his own people when he couldn't find a morsel of food to take with him. Hopefully, they wouldn't be far enough for him to starve on the way. He followed the tracks, knowing they would at least be going in the right direction.

It didn't take long for Stark to reconsider his idea.

In the middle of a Jotunheim tundra, the alchemist could feel his legs starting to lose their strength. He trudged through the snow for hours, his body tight and curled in attempt to keep out the cold. When he was at about eight kilometers, Stark lost the tracks. 

He continued to go the way they seemed to be heading when they disappeared.

He felt his skin freeze and he wondered if it would shatter at a touch. He dared a glance over his shoulder only to find his neck wouldn't turn as easily as it should. He shivered violently, eye losing focus as he saw a silhouette of something. It was familiar, but he was much too full of delirium to know from where. He called out the first name that came to mind. “C-C-Cap?”

“Stark?” The form moved closer. “Stark!” It sprinted and became smaller. The tone was that of a friend. A worried friend.

The alchemist's knees finally gave out as Banner caught him.

Stark laughed tiredly. “Oh g-g-good. You're not d-d-ead yet.”

Banner smiled awkwardly. “It's good to see you too.” Carefully, Banner helped Stark to his feet and headed back to camp. “It's a good thing you came when you did. Tomorrow, we are returning to Asgard to regroup.”

Stark just nodded and allowed his friend to lead him to the camp, staying close to the other's much warmer body. As soon as they made it back, the alchemist was presented with boar and warm mead.

He wasted no time to grab it and allow the warmth to soothe his frozen body.

Banner just spoke as he ate, placing Stark's red sword to the alchemist's side. “I thought you dead when I didn't see you after the fight in the Jotun village.”

“Heh.” He spoke around his mouthful. “Must've been a relief to be rid of me.”

Banner smiled. “I was worried about what I would say to Pepper. She expects me to bring you home.”

Stark looked at his friend, the longing clear in his eyes for a fraction of a second. The alchemist nodded. “And now you don't have to worry.” 

The blacksmith looked down at his hands and pursed his lips with a nod. “Yes. Now I don't have to worry.”

“You're a good friend, Banner.” Stark licked his fingers and offered some boar to his companion. “A lesser man wouldn't worry about another man's lady.”

Banner took a piece and shrugged. “Pepper and I work side by side. I can't afford to have her mourning while working in the shop.”

Stark's lip twitched and decided to let the unspoken truth of the situation be just that.

Banner took it as an opportunity to change subjects. “What happened to you? If you don't mind me asking, of course.”

There was a moment where Stark wanted to shut down and refuse to let Banner know. How he was now in possession of some sort of Jotun creation. How said creation was embedded into his chest. How he spent days under the watchful eyes of two frost giants. How there really wasn't much to complain about past that.

But Stark told him everything. From the moment he woke up in the Jotun camp to the second Banner found him, no detail was spared. The alchemist considered weaving around the subject of the captain, but when he found he had no reason to worry about it, he introduced Cap into the story.

Banner watched him as he explained every detail. When Stark finished he nodded. “When we get back to Asgard, I want to have a look at the heart.”

“By all means.” He was glad to have Banner here with him. When he wasn't that beast, he was truly an intelligent man who shared a lot of his interests. They taught each other in many ways and Banner was quick to pick up on Alchemy just as Stark was quick on Blacksmithing.

Banner stood. “Rest for now. I'll wake you in the morning.”

That was a suggestion the alchemist followed without question. As soon as he fell back, Stark was asleep.

 

The moment they stepped into Asgard, Pepper was there waiting for the men. As soon as her eyes fell on Stark, she knew something went wrong. He looked malnourished and tired, but still managed to smile at her. She pulled him into a hug which the alchemist returned readily. She pulled back and frowned. “Who did this?”

Stark grinned in attempt to cover the seriousness of the situation. “I had a wild night with some feisty frost giants. You should see them now. All me. No help.”

Pepper punched Stark in the shoulder playfully. She then turned to Banner and bowed her head. “Thank you for making sure you both came back in one piece.”

Banner smiled softly. “Anytime...”

A silence held between the two before Stark cleared his throat. “Well, almost one piece. Do you want to head to your shop and take a look at this bad boy?” He tapped his chest for emphasis

Banner snapped out of it then and nodded. “Er, right! Yes! Let's go!”

Pepper stood by for a moment longer but quickly caught up. “What 'bad boy'?”

“You'll see.” the alchemist smirked as they walked to the shop. 

As soon as they stepped in, Stark pulled off his armor and shirt to expose the strange blue object. It glowed bright enough to keep the dim room lit. 

Banner brought up a pair of spectacles and gestured to the table where Stark immediately sat. 

“How?” Pepper spoke softly at first, but soon found her voice. “How did this happen?” 

Banner pulled a light to Stark's chest and began to examine it. “A Jotun Captain brought him in and had this done to stop the spell.”

Stark let out a snort. “Yeah. I owe a frost giant my life.” This could be the same Jotun who killed one of his oldest and most loyal friends. And yet, he was spared. He could laugh. 

After a few minutes, Banner pulled back. “Well... It doesn't seem to be dangerous.”

Pepper frowned with a thought. “If the captain wanted to keep you alive, why didn't he just reverse the spell? All violent spells have a counter.”

Banner pulled back. “Unless he didn't know the counter.”

“But why wouldn't he?”

“Or anyone in the camp, for that matter.” Banner rubbed his lips in thought. “We can look into this. It's possible there isn't a counter to it. Or only someone in royalty knows it.”

Stark looked at Banner in confusion. “Why royalty?”

The blacksmith walked over to his bookshelf and pulled out an old tome. Quickly, he flipped it open to a page with drawings of icicles entering an Asgardian body. “Jotun Shards; It's a spell created by King Laufey himself.”

“What's your point?”

Pepper seemed to catch it quicker. “Laufey wouldn't teach the counter to just anyone. He couldn't have anyone becoming soft and taking back the punishment.”

Banner nodded. “If that's the case, then finding a way around it must have been hard.”

“And not brought to Laufey's attention.”

Stark thought about that for a moment. If this was true, then the captain was actually breaking a lot of rules by trying to keep him alive. And to say it was only to question him about sparing the life of that Jotun boy wasn't going to be enough of an explanation.

Something about the entire situation didn't make any sense. 

 

When it was clear the device wouldn't kill him or somehow turn him against his people, Stark returned to working on weapons and medicine for Asgard. He could feel an itch to return to the field of battle. Maybe he would see Cap out there. Maybe he could find some time to talk about what exactly was going on with this whole “Blue Heart” thing. It seemed like too much trouble to go through just to ask a question.

He looked down and blinked at the star he carved into the table when he was deep in thought. He's been thinking entirely too much about this giant.

“I brought food.”

The calling voice of Pepper had Stark nearly jumping out of his skin. Before he could form a rational thought, he already tossed papers onto the new star carving as if he were hiding something dirty.

Pepper only quirked an eyebrow at his strange behavior. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No. Nope, No.” He shook his head. “...No.”

She shook her head and sighed before presenting him with a basket of bread and apples. “I heard men were heading out again tomorrow. Did you plan on going with them?”

“Yeah. I can't just let them go, right? They would be lost without me.” He grabbed one of the apples and bit into it as he returned to his work. There were a few metals in need of conditioning.

“That's what I thought you would say.” Pepper sighed and flipped through the papers he threw down. “Please be a little more careful this time. I would rather Banner not have to carry you home because you lost your legs.”

Stark pulled the apple from his mouth. “Wounds are badges of honor! Losing limbs means I did a good job.”

“You have enough 'honor' with your new glowing heart.” She organized the papers and blinked when she came down to the carving in the wood. She brushed her fingers over it briefly but thought nothing of it as she put the newly straightened parchment back down. “Just... you remember how you told me you only go into battle to protect Asgard so I'll be safe?”

He paused. It was a moment Stark remembered well. He was losing sleep after Rhode's death and got this crazy idea about armored suits. When Pepper asked him to take a break, he yelled. It was only after his fit was over he explained his plans were to keep her protected. The plans for the suits stopped there. Stark nodded.

“What good will Asgard be to me if there's no one to share it with me?”

The alchemist said nothing. He looked down at the apple in his hand and frowned.

Pepper smiled. “Come to bed. I have a parting gift for you.”

 

The memory of their last night stuck in Stark's mind as he entered battle. It didn't take long for them to find the survivors of the camp. It seemed whoever was left took the chance to regroup and start the plans to avenge their fallen. 

They were ambushed on the way to the new camp location. From there, it was all chaos.

Blood from both sides painted the snow, but no one had time to admire the markings. Stark moved out of the way as Banner let out a roar and plowed into one of the giants, his own body tripling in size. Stark headed away; the blacksmith didn't need his back up.

Instinctively, the alchemist swung his sword at an enemy only to have it hit a frozen shield in position to protect its owner's side. Cap's eyes locked with his and suddenly, all the fight fell out of Stark's body.

_No! Do this for Pepper!_

He forced himself to swing at Cap, each blow bouncing off the shield. The captain backed up and blocked, but didn't say a word or move to strike. Stark found himself worried he would actually hit the Jotun. It was enough for him to nearly stop.

_For Pepper._

He snarled and returned to his vigor. What was wrong with the captain? Why wasn't he defending himself? They moved to the edge of the battlefield where Cap finally stumbled and fell. Stark could see him cursing himself on such a clumsy mistake. The shield was on the wrong side of his body. It wouldn't be able to come up in time to block his head from Stark's sword. The alchemist has his opening.

_Do it for Pepper!_

There was a slice of skin and Cap's eyes flew open wide. There, the Asgardian stood over his body. He had him down and defenseless. In response, he left a wound on his cheek.

Stark forced a glare at him. “Now we're even!” He ran off, leaving a very confused captain in order to slay one of his men.

 

The battle waged on for hours before both sides moved to regroup and heal. Stark brought plenty of different concoctions for healing and spread them throughout the camp. Their numbers weren't that bad. He worked on helping Banner and kept his thoughts of Cap to a minimum.

“I didn't know you could get wounded.”

Banner laughed softly as Stark rubbed a salve on his back. “No. I changed back in the middle of the battle.”

The alchemist hissed sympathetically. “You should've called for me. I _am_ your back up, remember?”

“You seemed a little busy at the time.” Banner looked over his shoulder. “Fighting with your own morale.”

Stark paused. No, he couldn't have seen. “What do you mean?”

“Don't pretend you don't know... I saw you and that frost giant.”

Silence filled the air.

“That was Cap, wasn't it?” The blacksmith spoke with a much softer tone.

Stark returned to the wound. “He saved my life. I thought I'd return the favor.”

“Mmhmm.” Banner wasn't convinced. He stood up and pulled on his shirt when Stark finished and turned to his friend. “I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but remember I'm here if you need to talk about it.”

Stark only nodded and patted Banner on the shoulder. After that, he walked out to head to his own tent, trying to ignore the feeling of someone watching him.

The feeling didn't stop as he moved closer to his sleeping area. Finally, he turned to find a pair of red eyes glowing only a few meters away from the camp. He knew immediately who it was. With a frown, he walked out to him. “You're going to get yourself killed doing something as dumb as this, you know.”

“Why did you spare me?”

Stark could laugh. “I could ask you the same question, Capsicle. I did my research; Jotun Shards weren't _meant_ to be stopped, especially for something so small as letting a kid get away. So the answer you gave me before? That's a flat out lie.”

The red eyes widened as if he were surprised by the amount of knowledge he gained in such a short amount of time. Cap sat, allowing him to be a bit closer to Stark's height. “I knew a man like you. I met him when I was an outcast; too small and too weak to be considered a giant in any stature. He helped me, even though he knew it could eventually lead to his death. I didn't realize everyone involved worked to make sure the Aesir never found out.”

Stark's throat tightened. “You knew my father.”

Cap nodded. “I'm so sorry for the loss, Stark. I didn't know they would kill all the Aesir in attempt to hide what they were planning. Had I known, I would have never allowed the tests to continue on.”

The alchemist swallowed around the lump in his throat and forced himself straight. “It doesn't matter. You were too young to make a difference.”

Cap frowned.

“My father told me about his work and the kid who volunteered.” Stark laughed softly, but there was nothing funny about this. “You aren't that much older than me, Cap. There wasn't anything you could do.” 

Cap reached out a hand to touch Stark, but immediately drew it back. His hand would only burn him. With a deep breath, the Jotun stood. “There is a small path not too far North of here. Meet me there tomorrow?”

“If you're looking for a way to apologize, I swear I'm not upset about what happened.”

“Just meet me there.” The captain stood up. “I'll see you then.”

Stark was tempted to ignore Cap's demand. But he he knew, deep down, he would be there. The alchemist turned and headed back to camp only to find Banner there with a smile on his face. “Tell me again how you were only returning the favor.”

“Shut it.”

 

After a night of doubt and his thoughts flip flopping on the subject, Stark eventually decided to give Cap the chance. If the captain wanted him dead, he would have left him with the spell and walked away. Instead, he took the high road and did what he could to keep the alchemist alive.

While the men sit and regained their strength, Stark headed out and hoped the blacksmith would not try and follow. He didn't know what would happen while he was up there, but he knew he didn't want Banner to witness it.

He walked up the trail, the stone walls thick and high, leaving the path nearly completely void of snowfall. Each step echoed. There was no where for him to hide if someone came running down the path. At the same time, there was no way anyone could sneak up on him. It was a good spot to pick for a private meeting.

But it was also a good place to set up an ambush on the other side.

Stark tensed at the thought. How was he so sure this wasn't a way to end him? What if Laufey caught wind of Cap's way of keeping him alive and decided to finish the job before it spread to Odin?

The thought was blocked with a much more exasperated part of his brain. His death could have been achieved in battle or last night. Why bring him all the way out here?

Stark came to the end of the path and carefully looked around. No one seemed to be here, just a large old building and a strange blond man with blueish skin and bright blue eyes.

The man smiled. “Hello, Stark.”

Stark moved closer and stared for a while. “...Cap?”

The shifted Jotun nodded. 

“Wh- How did you...?”

He laughed. “Some frost giants take the time to learn how to look like an Aesir. When I thought I would be cast out of Jotunheim, I thought I would learn in case I had the opportunity to flee to Asgard.” He looked down at his arm and pursed his lips. “Sadly, though, I never completely got the hang of it. Only someone born with a natural talent for magic can get the exact tone.”

Stark tensed. “So, it's possible for you to have spies?”

Cap smirked. “I've only ever heard of people with the ability. It's rare.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Come. There are some things I would like to show you.”

He followed the Jotun to the house to find a lot of dust and object left untouched for a very long time. On the table laid twenty different versions of one test. Stark could recognize the hand writing.

They were in the shop where his father last stood.

“I thought you would like to see this. He left some of his things here and-”

“Thank you, Cap...” He couldn't get any other words out as he glanced through the shop. The father who only ever looked at him when it had to do with Alchemy stood here. Worked here. Died here.

Stark took a deep breath and held it. He tensed at the cool hand on his shoulder, but didn't move away from the comforting hold. He just continued to look around the room, wondering if he could catch just a glimpse of his father's ghost.

 

It didn't take much longer for the Aesir to return to Asgard. It seemed the leaders wanted to take this time to discuss possible outcomes of this war. As a result, it gave both sides time to rebuild and reinvent their men.

But this also gave Cap and Stark time to talk.

The alchemist would spend days at a time in Jotunheim without a word to anyone. The captain would fail to follow through with duties because he was far too distracted with something completely different.

Still, they couldn't keep away from one another. At any chance they could get, the two would sneak off to that same shop. Each time they did this, they grew a little bit closer. Some days they would search the research papers and notebooks while on others they would simply enjoy being in each other's company. Today was the latter.

After a few bottles of mead, Stark felt himself with low self control. He smiled drunkenly at his companion. “You know, I've heard stories about some Aesir having Jotun lovers.”

Cap was still completely sober. “I've heard similar tales, yes.” He smiled.

“How do you think they do it? I mean look at the size difference.”

“I'm not much bigger than the biggest Asgardian, Stark. And some of us have the ability to shrink down for a short amount of time.”

“Can you do that?”

Cap laughed. “Only in heat. I studied magic, but I'm not as good as some of the others.”

“Hn.” The alchemist leaned closer. “Too bad.”

It was then the captain realized just how close he was to the other man. From his position, he could only look up at Stark as the man grew closer.

He should put a stop to this. Stark had a lover waiting for him.

That thought flew right out the window when the alchemist pressed on, his warm lips falling against his. Cap returned the affection intensely.

But then, Stark seemed to sober up a bit. “What am I doing?” His words came out soft.

“I'm sorry.”

“I have Pepper. I..I can't do this to her.”

“Yes, we should forget about this.”

“Yeah, we should. It never happened.”

They stared for a moment and by the next, they were all over each other. It ended with Cap carefully positioned over him, hard members still concealed but sensitive to the feel of the other. They rubbed against one another, mouths occupied with a kiss or the soft moans coming out. Stark looked into Cap's eyes, cloudy and wanting. He knew if he looked in the mirror, he would find the same look. The alchemist had many women in his bed; he was considered pretty charming. Pepper had been the first to take that wind out of his sails and get him to settle down. He loved her.

But the love he had for her was nothing compared to the emotions that coursed through him when he was with Cap.

The large hand cupped his cheek. “I don't want to share you.”

He pressed his face closer to the hand. “You won't have to.” He arched and bucked into the Jotun, successfully bringing them both to their climax.

Cap panted and held himself up over Stark. While the lust faded in the air, the unspoken emotion between them was brought forward and forced in the spot light. Neither spoke as they got themselves cleaned up. They both walked out of the shop and looked at each other, neither knowing exactly where to go from here.

“You know, I could stick around and see if my father hid something. Maybe a spell book, some well aged liquor..”

“Go home, Stark.”

Stark nodded. “Yeah. Heading out.” He didn't want to go home yet. As soon as he did that, he would have to face the reality that was Pepper. But he had to do this. For all of them.

 

He was surprised when he walked into his home to find Pepper sitting at his work table. She had a calculated look on her face; a look she often used to cover up extreme emotions before the dam would eventually break and catch everyone in the wake of destruction.

He was a dead man. “Pepper..”

“Not a word.” Pepper's gaze was steady.

Stark's mouth flew shut.

“Every time I turn my back, you've disappeared. Sometimes, you don't return for days. We haven't spoken more than three words to each other since you two returned from Jotunheim.”

“About Jotunheim...”

“Shh!” Her eyes looked panicked but that faded a second later. “If you don't let me speak, I'll never get this out.”

Stark's brows furrowed questioningly.

“I really loved you, Stark. I promise you I always will. And that's why I have to tell you this now before it gets harder.”

Stark opened his mouth to speak again, but this time Pepper was quick to speak.

“I was with Banner. Intimately.”

Stark froze and let the words process. “When did this happen?” 

“Last night. He wanted to be the one to come over and tell you, but I thought it best if it was only me.”

The alchemist pulled away and rubbed his eyes in irritation. He didn't know if he had a right to be angry considering he was having an equally intimate moment at the exact same time. But it was who he was. Stark was expected to break hearts. Pepper wasn't.

“Stark, I am so sorry.”

“Would you leave him for me?” He stared at the her seriously. “If I told you the only way we could fix this was if you never saw him again, would you?”

For a moment, Pepper was caught off guard. The tears that began to well up in her eyes faded as she looked at him in confusion. Then anger. She shook her head. “No.”

“So, you love him.”

“Of course!”

“Good.” He pulled her into a hug. “Now, I'm going to tell you something and I want you to remember your own confession before you react. Remember that story I told you about the Jotun captain?”

Pepper frowned. “What about him?”

“That's who I've been running off to see. And we had a.. ah... moment. Last night.”

Pepper pulled back and looked Stark in the eye. “The captain with the weird name you can't pronounce?”

“Yeah.”

It was then she gave a reaction he wasn't expecting. She laughed. A lighthearted laugh usually inspired by an amazing idea or a night of drinks. Stark took this as a good sign. “I knew it.”

“Hm?”

“As soon as you told me about him I knew he'd be the one.”

Stark blinked. “The one what?”

Pepper shook her head and tool his head in her hands. “Stark, I love you and I know you love me. But we both know there's someone out there for us. And I knew it would be Cap.”

Stark nodded. If he truly admitted it to himself, he knew Pepper would eventually leave him for the blacksmith. And it was as if she waited until her found Cap that she finally found it safe to pursue what her heart wanted. “So, we're okay?”

She planted a kiss on his cheek. “Yes. We'll be just fine.”

 

“This will lead to the end of you.”

Cap was not getting the desired result from his end. He found his closest friend with a frown on his face when he approached his hut.

The captain sighed. “There's nothing to worry about, Buk.”

“If the king finds out what you did...”

“How will he find out?”

Buk scoffed. “There were eyes at that camp, Stjevig! There were warriors who saw him leave. Who is to say they didn't see him come back to do... whatever it is he did with you?” 

Cap stared off, his jaw set as he thought about what his friend said. He brought forth valid points, yes. But there was a problem. “Then it doesn't matter if I continue this or not. The damage is already done.”

Buk frowned. “If you tell Laufey you had plans for Stark that required something slow and painful, he might spare you. But there have been whispers of you being an Aesir pet. It won't take long until you're considered a threat to Jotunheim.”

“Will you believe them?”

“What?” Buk was taken aback by the question.

“When I'm put on trial for this and people begin to think of me as a traitor, will you believe a word of it?”

Buk stared blankly at his friend for a long time. He glared at him. “I have been by your side since you were considered too weak for battle. I have watched you ride and lead many Jotun into battle, even when the fight seemed lost. And there is not a shred of doubt in my mind that you would sooner die than betray Jotunheim.”

“Then why do you worry?”

He stared at the captain for a while and for a moment, Cap thought he was questioning it himself. But then he said something to which Cap had no response. “Because I also know you would sooner die a thousand deaths than let him experience even one.”

Cap had nothing more to say. He just stared at his old friend, lips pursed and mind reeling. He wanted to reassure him that it would never come to death. But that was a promise he would never be able to truly keep.

Buk sighed. “I have archers to train. We can talk more about this later.”

Cap nodded, but they both knew this was the end of the discussion as they walked their separate ways.

 

Aside from their most trusted companions, Stark and Cap told no one about their relationship. Even as they fought for their own sides in war after war, they would return to one another after all the battles. If Stark didn't return to Jotunheim, then Cap would venture into Asgard, carefully to remain unseen even in his Asgardian form. The few times of peace were treated as holidays where no one would see the captain or the alchemist for days.

As years past and battles became more violent, the relationship became harder to hide and harder to keep. Fights would grow and arguments became regular events. But even then it wasn't life threatening.

Then Cap disappeared from the field of battle. One day, Stark returned to Asgard half frozen and pale as a ghost. Had it not been for the blue heart, Pepper and Banner were sure he'd be dead.

“Stark?” Pepper touched his shoulder.

He looked over at her slowly then at the blacksmith. “What's the strongest drink you have?”

Wordlessly, Banner grabbed a stein and filled it with an amber liquid. He handed it to Stark. “What happened?”

Pepper frowned. “Is everything okay? Did you fight with Cap?”

Stark downed his drink and laughed softly. “You... can say that.” He looked to the two. “Did you know Jotun men can bear children?”

Pepper and Banner looked at one another then back to the Stark. After a moment of silence, Pepper finally spoke. “We can go back with you and try and figure out a way to work this out.”

The alchemist shook his head. “He froze off the path to my father's lab and locked himself in. He said it would only be reopened when he was giving birth.”

Banner nodded. “We'll still go with you. If this kid looks even the least bit Asgardian, you're going to need help getting it out of there.”

“Cap probably won't let us take it.”

“If the kid comes out without blue skin, I'm sure he'll understand.”

Stark thought about it for a moment before letting out a sigh and looking into the stein. This was more than just the problem of a child's safety. He would be a father of a kid who probably would find it hard to fit into either of the realms. How would he do this? “We're locked out for a few months at the very least.”

Pepper thought about it for a moment. “I can put together a pack for when he's in labor. If the baby has Asgardian skin, odds are it will be cold and vulnerable to Jotunheim's weather.”

Banner turned to her. “What if the baby ends up more Jotun?”

“We can only hope he'll know how to handle it from there.”

Stark was in another world by that time. A few months. He had months to worry about it. Right now, he just wanted to forget the concerns and get himself drunk.

 

The months were not enough time to prepare him for the situation at hand. It was the dead of night when he thought he heard the labored cries of his Jotun lover. He didn't know how, but he knew Cap was calling for him. As quickly as he could, Stark dragged Pepper and Banner out of their home and tugged them along to Jotunheim. He didn't want to do this alone.

The ice blocking the path was nothing more than a puddle now as they rushed through. The cries became louder. 

Stark wasted no time bursting through the door. He saw were Cap laid, huffing and panting with Buk right by his side. 

Pepper said nothing and moved to help, pulling Banner along with her. “Stark..”

The alchemist wasn't listening. He just trotted up to Cap.

The Jotun captain smiled tiredly. “glad... you could... make it.”

“Wouldn't miss this for the world.”

It took hours before the labor stopped and the blue skinned child was born with a loud cry. Pepper held it carefully. “It's a boy.” 

He was small for a Jotun infant, but much bigger than a typical Asgardian. His skin shifted at Pepper's touch. She looked to Stark. “He's....”

“Magic.” Buk let out a soft, breathly laugh. “He has a touch of magic.”

Stark took him from the red-head carefully. For a moment, he was afraid the child would burn him or he would accidentally hurt the small bundle. He smiled as the baby stopped crying and settled for staring at him in wonder. The alchemist turned to his lover. “We're going to give him a name I can pronounce. So we're not naming him after you, Stealpig.”

“ _Stjevig_...” Cap looked at him flatly and regained some strength. He didn't have to think about it long. “Pétr.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“A strong one. Don't tell me you can't pronounce it...”

“Nono, I got it.... Pétr.”

“Right.” Cap smiled. “ Pétr...”

 

With the new baby boy, marriage became immediate. It was a small ritual; much more simple than anything planned on Asgard. Stark was happy with it and so was Cap. Only Pepper seemed to have anything to say about it and that was nothing more than a few words to Banner about their own wedding.

They married the following spring.

The boy Pétr grew up fast with large, doe-like eyes and the shaggy brown hair of his Asgardian father. In a short five years, he learned how to use his magic to climb wall and perfect his abilities to shift his skin tone between races. He also learned to use his magic to shoot a strange, web-like projectile from a small device he created for his wrist (with the help of his father). Upon the success of his device, Pétr immediately attempted to use the web like a swing. It snapped, much to his disappointment.

“The magic's not strong enough.” He pouted.

Cap chuckled. “You'll get there. Just keep working on it.”

Stark smirked. “Just keep the swinging inside for now. We wouldn't want you colliding into a cliffside. Or a building.”

“Stark!”

“What? Are you saying we would?”

The half-blood spent a lot of time in Jotunheim. But as he aged, his heritage started to show and become more prominent. He was smaller than most of the other boys his age. His markings were noticeably faded. He was quick to point out mistakes in the way Jotunheim was run and often argued with anyone who happened to have flawed logic. 

He wasn't very popular among his peers. 

A month after his seventh birthday, he staggered into Asgard alone for the first time. He jumped at the loud roars of thunder and the constant strikes of lightening. He whimpered and wondered about turning back. He didn't tell Poppa he was gone; what if he never made it to Father?

Another strike of lightening made him cry out and run through the streets. “Father!”

Meanwhile, Stark was caught in the amazement, just like everyone else in Asgard. He smirked to himself. “That one's going to be a pain...” The alchemist could only hope the prince wasn't as reckless and loud at his birth. He walked and weaved though the crowd.

He froze when he heard the familiar cry and turned to see his son. “ Pétr! What happened? Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

He knelt down and took the little face in his hands. “What're you doing here? Does Poppa know you're here?”

“Uhhhh....” Pétr didn't look his father in the eye.

Stark let out a heavy sigh and picked the boy up. “Come on, let's take care of your scratches..”

“Don't bring me back to Poppa yet, okay?”

“Why not?” Stark frowned.

Pétr paused and fiddled with his broken webslinger. “I donno... just when you come to see us... and you don't stay.”

Stark pursed his lips and walked to his shop. “Pétr, we've been over this...”

“I'm sad when you leave and so is Poppa.”

Stark had nothing to say. He simply brought him into the lab and gave him a quick look. “You're going to need something for that shoulder.”

“Father, I'm fine. I can heal myself.” He pulled off the webslinger and showed it to Stark. “I just wanna fix this.”

Stark straightened his back. “At least tell me how you got these wounds.”

Pétr looked down at his hands. “Another boy. He... he found out what I am. He called Poppa a dirty traitor.”

Stark could feel his blood freezing over. Pétr didn't realize how dangerous this could become. “Where was Poppa during this?”

Pétr's worried eyes grew. “Some guys came to talk to him this morning, but after that I didn't see him.”

Stark nodded and forced himself as calm as he could. “You're going to spend some time with Pepper, okay? I need to talk to Poppa.”

The boy looked at his father in panic. “Don't tell him what I did!”

“I won't. That can stay our little secret.” He didn't tell Pétr about his worry. About what could be happening to Cap right now.

 

Cap refused to cry out. It took four men to successfully pin him down while the fifth carved into his forehead with a hot steel dagger. Had the king thought him just another soldier, Cap would be killed immediately for his relationship with the alchemist. But Laufey knew better. He knew he was proof there was a way to force growth upon all those born too weak and small to serve Jotunheim and he knew the alchemist working with him taught him everything there was to know about the test. The captain was the only one still alive from that experiment and the only one capable of putting it into another. He may need him one day. “Let this be a lesson to you, Stjevig. I will not stand for such breeding on my land. If I find any other creatures to come from you, none of them will be safe from my wrath.”

The burning stopped. He was pulled to his knees where the blood flowed into his eyes. Still, he looked up and glared at his king. He didn't say a word. By the look, the king could only assume he wanted to spit at him and fight for his dignity. But there was too much at stake. He had a son and a husband who the Jotuns could steal in the dead of night, kill, and no one would be able to do anything about it. He knew his knowledge of the growth test was the only thing keeping them all safe and even with that, he was treading on thin ice.

Laufey wave his hand dismissively. Cap was pulled to his feet and dragged out of sight. He didn't bother asking where they were taking him. All that matter was he was still alive for another day. He was thrown before the building he called home and left with the wound on his forehead and a pair of eyes on him.

This was not the way he wanted his husband to see him.

The alchemist stepped forward as soon as the others walked away and knelt down in the snow. “Oh, Cap....” He lifted his head in his gloved hands and wiped away the blood running down from the “A” crudely carved into his head.

Cap laughed softly and pulled himself up. “The King disapproves of this.”

Stark huffed. “I'm just glad he didn't kill you.”

“Where's Pétr?”

“Back in Asgard with Pepper and Banner.” Stark paused. “He didn't want to come back just yet and now I see why.”

Cap smiled fondly. “His intuition is so much stronger than anyone in the Nine Realms.” 

“Yeah, we got a regular psychic on our hands. Can I look at that cut now?”

Cap sighed and nodded as Stark's hands dove into the bag next to him. The Jotun laid back down so he was back in Stark's reach and snorted with a thought. “Do you know what he told me yesterday?”

“No. What?”

“He told me not to worry about you. You and 'Little Brother' would be fine.”

Stark's hand slacked and he nearly dropped the vial in his hand in surprise. “Is this your way of telling me we're having another baby?”

“No. I sort of thought _you_ were sleeping around on me.”

The alchemist laughed softly. “Cap, I swear I gave up my trollop ways long before we got together...” He pulled out a cloth and pour half the vial on the cloth. “Maybe he'd just trying to drop hints.”

Cap hissed as the cloth was pressed to the open sore, but didn't pull away. “Maybe.”

 

Stark stayed with Cap that night and asked Banner to bring his son to the lab. When Pétr returned to Jotunheim, he took one look at his Poppa and sighed. “He'll get his, Poppa.”

Cap and Stark didn't question Pétr. Instead, they just settled with exchanging looks of confusion. There was no further comment or explanation. It was just another confusing interaction with their strange little Jotun boy.

In time, the letter on Cap's head began to scar over. The relationship between the two only got stronger. As if deliberately trying to insult the king, Stark decided to stay in Jotunheim for months at a time. He only returned to Asgard for supplies. Cap couldn't find it in him to complain. Pétr was ecstatic.

It was almost two years before the shaky moment of peace snapped and war begun anew.

Cap placed Pétr next to Pepper and looked him in the eyes. “I want you to stay with Pepper and keep in Asgardian form. Don't leave Asgard until your father comes for you, do you understand?”

“Poppa, don't go.” Pétr whimpered and grabbed onto Cap's arm. “I'm scared you...”

“I'll be fine, Pétr. Don't worry about me, okay?” Cap smiled at his son reassuringly and looked up at the sound of Jotun war cry. He then turned and looked at Pepper with a nod. “Take care of him.”

Pepper nodded back. “Take care of _yourself_.” She said nothing more and tugged Pétr with her as he struggled and screamed to his Poppa's retreating form.

Cap's eyes narrowed as he ran into battle. He worried when he didn't see Stark but the worry was demolished when he heard the battle cry and saw the bright red blade of Jericho stab into one of the Jotun. He was yards away and it would take a bit of fighting to get to him, but at least the alchemist was safe.

Cap turned in time to get stabbed in the side by a icy javelin. He looked into the apologetic eyes of Buk as he sunk to his knees. He heard Stark cry out and could only hope he would stay away. Buk pushed him back and watched him stumble before Banner roared and plowed into the giant. From what Cap knew about Banner's battle technique, his old friend was dead the moment they touched.

But where Buk fell, three others took his place. Cap was surrounded by darkness as the others dragged him off, too caught up in the betrayal and his worry for the alchemist to wonder much about where they would take him.

The alchemist wasn't too far and witnessed the entire event.

Stark fought to get to Cap, but it seemed all the Jotuns wanted to get in his way. He sliced at them and cried out for his lover. By the time he got to the spot where he saw the captain collapse, it was too late. He was already long gone. 

“Cap!” He whipped around and sliced through another, blind to everything but finding the other. _“CAP!”_

No one responded. Only the wordless roars of the armies and the sounds of metal on flesh came to his cry. 

 

Cap felt his wounds wrapped and his hands bound behind his back before he was allowed to see. He knelt before his king once more outside one of his many grounds, but this time it was different. Around him were many Jotun men and women, one of which was holding a small bundle. A bundle much too small to be a frost giant.

Laufey looked at him coolly. “Captain, it seems your skills will be what spares you on this day.”

Cap swallowed.

“I have finally had a son. A weak boy, much like your body once was and your mind is currently. The Throne of Jotunheim cannot have that.”

Cap watched as the woman placed the bundle in the snow before him. The small infant looked up at him as it was unwrapped. Cap just stared into the little face, the body looking more the size of an Asgardian infant than a Jotun. The captain shook his head. “I can't.”

Laufey was not pleased. “Remember your place, Stjevig.”

“He's too young. The pain of the spell could kill him!”

“Then his survival will be proof of his strength.”

“He is just an infant!”

“If you do not do it, both of you will die!” Laufey roared. “I will not have that _thing_ sit on my throne as it is!”

Cap thought about it for a moment as the child before him started to whimper and shake. No one touched it. No one came to pick it up and comfort it. The infant just cried. 

“I'm sorry...” He whispered to the baby. 

Laufey stepped up and opened his mouth to give the order only to have it silenced by a strange web slapping his mouth shut.

Cap turned, hoping it wasn't who he thought it was. His heart filled with dread. “Pétr! I told you to stay away!”

Laufey pulled off the substance watched as the boy stepped in front of his father. The king looked amused. “The dirty halfling in the flesh...” He waved a hand. “Kill them both.”

_“No!”_ Cap cried out as he tried to stand. He was pushed back to his knees almost instantly. “My son is innocent! Spare him!” They ignored him as Pétr was pulled away. He thought hard,and immediately came to a shout that could save his son's life. _“He can shift into an Asgardian!”_

They paused. Laufey looked interested. Pétr looked shocked.

Cap continued as he saw his opportunity. “You can use him as a spy. His Aesir form is flawless. No one will suspect a mere boy as the one slipping you information.”

“Poppa...”

“Let me handle this, Pétr.” Cap looked up. “He is more valuable alive than dead.” He wanted to beg for the boy's life, but knew that would do no good. He could only hope Pétr would go along with this, at least for now while he was before the king. He just wanted the boy to stay alive.

Laufey was intrigued. “Alright. Only the captain, then.”

“No! Poppa!” Pétr struggled in the grip of Laufey's men.

Cap just smiled at his son, locking eyes as someone stepped behind him and put a dagger to his throat. “Close your eyes, Pétr.”

The blade dug into his skin. Pétr obeyed his Poppa's final order and squeezed his eyes shut as his body fell. For a moment, there was nothing but the baby's hiccuping cries to keep from complete silence.

“Now then, Boy.” He felt a hand move under his jaw and he looked into Laufey's face. “I am sure we can make some use for you in my army.”

He stared into the king's eyes. This man who killed his Jotun father. What loyalty did he have to Jotunheim when his only living family was in Asgard? Obviously, this was not a thought in the royal's head.

He spit in Laufey's face.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other. 

Pétr glared and filled the silence. “I would rather die than work for the man who murdered my family.”

Laufey calmly backed away from Pétr and wiped away the moisture from his cheek. “Have it your way, then.”

The men moved in. Pétr's screams filled the air.

“My king? What of the infant?”

“Leave it. It is not worth the time or energy.” It wouldn't have the strength to survive the night anyway.

 

The shrill cry of a baby is what led Stark to the bodies. He stopped registering the sound as soon as he saw them. For all he knew, the infant was imagined. But the bodies of his lover and his son they were all too real.

Cap was the first body he moved. There was no question about it, his lover was dead. The blood pooled around the ice and snow from a long slit on his neck. He trembled from something other than the cold.

“Fa...th..”

“Pétr?” Stark crawled to Pétr. With a shaking hand, he pulled his son up to him, where he could see his eyes open and clouded.

Pétr sniffled. “I'm sorry, Father... I tried...”

“Shhhh. It's going to be okay, Pétr. We'll get you out of here and go home. You can live with me in Asgard, okay?”

A tear ran from Pétr eyes and he smiled. “Father... I'm ...scared...”

Stark did his best to look strong for his son. He could only hope it was enough. “Everything will be okay.” He hugged him close and rocked back and forth.

Pétr nodded slowly. “It's going....to be....” He shivered and clung to the alchemist. For a moment, Stark thought he would regain his strength just enough so he could get them out of there and find Pétr some actual help. But then, the gripped slackened and Pétr's breathing stopped completely.

Stark laid with the bodies for a long time and closed his son'e eyes. The cries of an infant continued to echo in his mind. His body then began to move on its own. Rage fueled his veins.

With the grip of his sword, he ran full speed into Laufey's palace, unaware of the others called by the baby's cry.

 

By the time he arrived at his first Jotun, Stark's brain voided all thought and his vision went completely red. He slaughtered countless people in his time there and any wounds he suffered were treated as nothing more than a mere scratch. He didn't regain his wits until he was back in Asgard, a group of warriors staring at him. He swayed and found himself numb. He must've had quite a few drinks. How did he survive such a frontal attack on the palace?

“Did I kill Laufey?” He asked when he was finally back in his own mind.

The warriors laughed as if he simply made a joke.

Banner sat by his side. He found nothing about this funny. “No... Laufey's still alive.”

Stark looked into an empty stein and nodded as if he did nothing more than ask about the weather. “I'm going to need another five of these.” 

“You fought harder than the Beast himself!” One of the warriors patted Stark's shoulder hard. “Another drink for my brother!”

Banner ignored the others' cheers and stared at his friend. “What happened out there, Stark?”

The alchemist just stared into the stein. What _did_ happen out there? One moment, he had a family, someone he loved and who loved him. Someone who granted him with a sweet, brilliant son. And now, he couldn't get the image of their bodies out of his mind.

As soon as the full stein hit the table, it was at his lips. The pain started to dull again with each gulp.

Banner was afraid to ask the question again.

 

The next year consisted of Stark drinking. He became a regular at the pubs and often got himself into fights with the warriors coming back from Jotunheim. He didn't speak to Banner and Pepper as often. Banner could only lend an ear to the events the alchemist didn't want to talk about while Pepper would only shower him with apologies and try to make everything batter. She felt guilty that Pétr escaped her watch and returned to Jotunheim. Stark couldn't blame her for the events. Pétr would have found his way no matter what and Pepper didn't have the means to stop him.

He stopped his work with Alchemy almost completely. The time Stark wasn't in the pub, he was in his bed with nightmares. He would often wake up in the middle of the night in tears he didn't remember shedding. He didn't know how much longer he could handle all the grief before he eventually took his own life. He thought about it often, but he was unsure if he would end up in the realm that held his family if he did that.

It was midday and he was nearly blackout drunk again when the door to his shop opened. In stepped Odin with a woman at his side, holding something he assumed was a child.

Stark stood up and ran his hand through his unkempt hair, feeling a bit more sober in the presence of his King. “All-Father.”

Odin nodded. “Stark.”

“What brings you to my part of the world?”

The All-Father looked around the shop, his hands behind his back as he took in the sight of the dust covered books on the shelf. “I heard of your loss and came to express my condolences. Was the boy young?”

“Eight. Almost nine.” Stark gritted his teeth as a lump formed in his throat.

“And your lover? A Jotun man, yes?”

“Yes.” He was surprised his teeth didn't crack as his jaw tightened more. His words were short; Stark didn't want to explain the events to the King. The idea of this being an issue never even crossed his mind. Why would he care? It wasn't like Stark rebelled and there wasn't any information to pull from the dead Jotuns.

Odin bowed his head slightly. “I am very sorry. Had this situation not been so dire, I would have simply found someone else and left you to mourn. Unfortunately, Fate rarely works in ways best suited to our standards.” He nodded to the woman. 

She looked to the one in her arms and whispered something. The child turned and blinked large green eyes at the alchemist. He stared at the man seriously with an intelligence much too complex for an Asgardian child. The woman placed him in the floor where he stood on unpracticed legs for a moment, then began a few tentative steps.

“His name is Loki.”

Stark laughed humorlessly. “Why am _I_ the one who gets to meet your secret son?”

“He's Jotun.”

The laughter stopped and Stark looked back down at the child. Already, he took to exploring and found his way over to the bookshelf, giving it a little pat as if that would be enough to get a tome for himself. His skin was pale but not blue. His head was covered in well-tamed, black hair. He looked nothing like Odin or the woman who was previously holding the child so it was hard to find a relation. The alchemist frowned. “Full blood?”

“Yes.”

“He looks Asgardian. I've only seen a half-blood be able to pull off a flawless shift. Are you sure?”

“Yes, quite sure. He has a unique gift for magic. And this is precisely why I cannot keep this child on the grounds of the palace.”

“What? Afraid he might freeze some of your guards? Turn into his frost giant form in the middle of a fancy dinner? Run into a room too hot and melt?”

“Die at the hands of my son.” Odin immediately offered with a blank face. “Or vice versa.”

Stark pursed his lips before he could shove his boot further into his mouth.

“Thor has began expressing hatred for Jotunheim. If he were to discover Loki's true parentage prematurely, it would end in a war much more tragic than you have experienced thus far.”

“I find that hard to believe.” The only way Stark could see that as a possibility is if their war would bring an end to everything and everyone.

Odin didn't argue. “I ask that you raise him as you would your own. Protect him until the time comes.”

“Yeah, because I did such a good job with my last son...” He didn't leave his remark open to response. Instead, he immediately asked Odin a question. “What 'time?'”

Odin looked to the toddler. “He will know.”

The little Jotun let out a cry of delight when he found a book in his reach. Loki immediately fell back on his little butt and started chewing in the binding.

“Oh look, he found a chew toy.” Stark turned back to Odin with a gesture to the child. “Would that time be now? I don't know, I don't speak baby babble.”

Odin looked to the alchemist and said nothing. He then headed out the door. “Take care, Stark. You will see his true nature in time. And he will help you as much as you help him.”

“Hey, wait!” They were just going to leave the kid with him?! He rushed for the door only to find the street void of kings and their men. He entertained the idea of chasing after the man but then there was a crash followed by the giggle of a certain little bastard.

 

Pepper and Banner were shocked at the sight of little Loki, but the red head did not hesitate to take the baby into her arms. “He's adorable!” She cooed to the little Jotun.

Banner frowned at Stark. “What're you going to do?”

He looked to the little boy as he pulled at the long hair and laughed at the faces of discomfort Pepper would make. “I have no choice but to raise him. I can't just tell the All-Father 'thanks, but no thanks.' I mean, could you?”

Banner just stared at him for a moment before slapping him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Stark. It's a boy.”

“Thank you, very helpful.”

Stark didn't have a drink that entire day. Not that he didn't want one; the child put on his lap had a knack for finding his way into situations that could be dangerous for him or cause a lot more chaos than needed. He didn't have time to drink. He wanted to grab the little boy and strangle the life out of him.

Then he seemed to sense this, did something cute and all was forgiven.

As night approached, the two left and Stark put Loki into bed. Pétr's old bed he never had the heart to throw away. Not he was a little glad for his moment of sentimentality.

Not that Loki spent very long in the bed.

When Stark began to doze off, he felt a little hand on his face. He looked up to find those big green eyes staring into his own. With a little bit of incoherent babble, the little boy pushed a book into Stark's hand and curled up next to him until his face nuzzled the blue light from his heart.

The alchemist looked at the book and shifted so he was sitting up and Loki was mostly on his lap. “This isn't a story book, Kid. This is a book on alchemy techniques.”

Loki looked up at him with an expression that could only mean “So?” 

He couldn't help but smile at the little boy. In the one day he had him, Stark found Loki was already growing on him. He couldn't say he was anything like Pétr. So far as he could tell, the two only shared an intelligence that was far beyond their years. Otherwise, it was like the sun and the moon. He knew his son would've loved to have a little brother to play with, teach, and protect.

A little brother...

Stark snapped himself out of it and looked back at the boy. “It's not a book for kids. I'll let you play with it when you're older.” He instead thought hard about a story to tell. He didn't know where all the story books were put and it was a little late to go looking for them. So, he would simply make one up. “Did you ever hear the story about the brave warrior of Jotunheim?”

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, the thoughts of another follow-up hit. Stark raising Loki might become the next addition to this series.


End file.
